


Idle Thoughts

by crossthesky



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 14:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20584373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossthesky/pseuds/crossthesky
Summary: After twice encountering the scarred man of Ishbal, Lust finds him creeping into her thoughts in idle moments - and bringing along some unfamiliar and disquieting speculation.





	Idle Thoughts

There was something about the darkness that amplified silence. And size. The rather dingy hotel room wasn't particularly large, but it seemed so anyhow. Yawning, in a way. Such an ominous way to describe a room, _yawning_. It implied teeth and heat and the promise of being devoured.

Homunculi had no need for sleep, but Lust found it strangely pleasant to lie down in the dark and close her eyes and let her mind drift. Besides, out in the world she had to occasionally make some motions to make it appear as though she were human. She wasn't sure how late it was, but humans noticed lights under doors or movement past the time most reasonable people were in bed. Humans noticed the strangest things. They'd comment on a light in all night but not her pallor or eye color. She supposed it was the way they lived, so bound by their routines and daily conventions. They couldn't even see the things in front of them that didn't belong.

Most of them, at least. 

Lust's eyes opened in the dark, staring at the nothingness of the ceiling above her. Gluttony was silent, having learned by now that when she told him to stay still and make no noise she meant it. Her hands were folded neatly below her breasts, a single cover drawn up to her waist simply so the bed would appear used in the morning. 

The scarred man was slipping into her thoughts again. 

He did that more and more often of late. Lurking around the edges of her mind in the shadows like some pathetic scoundrel, an insufferable miscreant that persisted in bothering her. It would be easiest to just remove him entirely, but her master had some vague plans for him. What they were, Lust had no idea, but she could guess. He was angry, dangerous, possessed of powerful alchemical abilities... He would be another playing piece on the great game board her master had turned the known world into.

Though it was odd that Lust herself had been warned to leave him be. If he was going to be used, shouldn't she be sent to him? He was wild and acting entirely on his own accord. She could make short work of bringing him to heel, if that was what needed. But who was she to question her master's methods? At least out loud.

Still. Surely there was a better use of the scarred man than just watching him. He could be a threat. Even considering the outcome of their...heated encounter in the library. She doubted that had been a true display of his skills - she couldn't recall him striking her even once. Or making a move to. Most men lost their silly social conviction to not hit a woman when one was attacking them. But his reactions to her had been unprecedented in other ways.

Whatever lurked in his depths, Lust was sure it would be no great challenge to win him over and wind him around her finger. And by extension her master's. He was younger and full of more righteous passion than the men she was sent to, but those were things she could use. He wasn't so different than any other man, he was flesh and blood and ruled by the wants and desires of such. And younger men...they were still sometimes filled with hope and eagerness and a belief in some honest, meaningful connection.

The poor things.

It would be a pleasant change of pace, though. So often her targets were so old, so concerned with themselves and their own wealth and power. Of course she was never set upon _good_ men, they'd learned that mistake. But she could respect an honest murderer. And a man with real passion - she wouldn't mind experiencing some of that for herself. She wasn't one to complain about her duties, but god it was boring, riding grunting old men until they reached their unimpressive finishes and hoping they didn't have a heart attack in the middle of it.

The scarred man was highly unlikely to be at risk of cardiac failure. Or need to lie there doing nothing because of his poor bad back. And she doubted his breath would smell of old food and the stench of the elderly, or his fingers would turn to claws from joints that no longer worked as they should. She'd seen his hands, they were broad and well formed. 

He _was_ handsome, she supposed. Lust rarely thought about those things, it wasn't as though what a man looked like meant anything. Only what they could do for her and her master. And that was fine, she didn't care. What would she do with a lover? She had more important things to take up her hours, there would be time for that when the job was done and her payment received in full. But there was no harm in thinking or speculating. For all she knew, she'd be set on the Ishbalan in due time.

Lust's mind drifted again to his hands. Or what she could recall of them - their size, how massive his clenched fists had seemed. He was such a big man - it was no wonder they called him a beast. Would he be a beast in bed? She could imagine him a vigorous, commanding lover. Or perhaps he was the sort who's bedroom manner was the opposite of his public, gentle and quiet and simmering with intensity.

Good god, why was she lying here imagining what the scarred man was like in bed? It really didn't matter, even if she did end up his handler. It would just be another job, one with a potential to be less dull than others. Would he kiss her, she wondered? They so rarely bothered, and she never encouraged it. Extended foreplay just made it all take even longer. The Ishbalan, though.... he had to have great wells of stamina. It wouldn't be quick with him. She wouldn't mind if he kissed her, or touched her. It might be nice. Human women enjoyed all of that sort of thing. Why couldn't she? Given the opportunity of course. It wasn't as though she were at liberty to take lovers in her spare time, even if she decided she wanted to. It was ridiculous to let her mind run wild with idle fantasies, what was the matter with her? She could control her own damned mind.

Or she ought to be able to. Now she just found herself straying back to wondering what the scarred man's mouth tasted like, or whether he could lift her off the ground with one arm, whether all of him was as big as the rest of him. Things that didn't matter, things she shouldn't be concerning herself with at all. Maybe Envy was right, maybe it wasn't healthy for her to have too much time alone with her thoughts. Odd fancies occurred.

In a fit of irritation, Lust found herself turning onto her side in the bed. Her lips were pursed into a thin line and she stared at the wall with the same unseeing gaze she'd turned to the ceiling. All of this thinking had her feeling strangely on edge and full of some nervous sort of energy. Like she wanted something, but she had no idea what that was. It was formless and meaningless but felt as though it would grow to consume her all the same. She could _feel_ it, in the pit of her. 

Maybe it was nerves. So much happening so quickly all of a sudden, so many shifts and surprises and changes of plans. And it was natural that she would focus that nervous concern on the scarred man, he seemed in the center of much of it. He was an avatar for the unexpected and uncontrolled, that was all. As to why she returned again and again to the idea of taking him to bed... it _was_ what she did, it was only natural her mind would impose that sort of context. She was Lust, he was a human alchemist and a man. It didn't mean she _wanted_ him, it was simply a possibility she should be prepared for.

That was all.

But dear lord, she needed to do something to purge whatever was building in her. Something besides thinking on the physical prowess of some man she had nothing to do with. Somehow that seemed to be the start of the whole problem. She needed to get herself in order, and quickly.

It was very late, but that didn't matter. In every town and city there were those places where the dregs of society found themselves into the wee hours of the night. The penniless drunks, the pickpockets, the fiends. Sitting up in bed, Lust made no effort to light the room.

"Come along, Gluttony." She slipped out from under the single cover. "We're going to go find you a nice snack."

"Really?" Surprised, almost disbelieving. Lust was already at the door, slipping on a dark hooded cloak. 

"Really. You can eat to your engorged heart's content. Eat the whole damned town for all I care, we're leaving. It's high time we had a change of scenery."

But as Lust mildly watched Gluttony's carnage she found little distraction in it. Through the screams and the butchery the scarred man and his possible place in her master's plan persisted in haunting the edges of her mind. 

Still she thought of his hands.


End file.
